


I Don't Deserve You

by Name_Pending



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Dean Has Self-Esteem Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Episode: s11e03 The Bad Seed, First Kiss, First Time, Insecure Dean, Kinda, M/M, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-12
Packaged: 2018-12-14 07:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11778321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Name_Pending/pseuds/Name_Pending
Summary: After Dean refuses to let Castiel heal him, he can't sleep. He gets up in the middle of the night to talk to the angel, and that talk becomes something more.





	I Don't Deserve You

“Besides I had it coming.”

Dean had said that to Castiel and he had meant it. He appreciated the offer to heal his injuries, he honestly did, but it wasn’t an offer he could accept. He didn’t deserve it.

He had almost beaten Cas to death, had almost drove an angel blade through his chest. He’d only just managed to stop in the last second, and even then he hadn’t been able to leave without a parting threat that his mercy was the angel’s last chance.

Part of Dean’s subconscious reminded him that he had been under the Mark’s influence, not himself. The rest of it reminded him that it had still been him; it had still been his hands that had beat the angel black and blue.

He was very glad that angels could heal their vessels’ injuries. If he’d had to look at the scars and bruises on his best friend’s face, he probably would’ve broken down into tears the second Rowena had freed the angel from her attack dog spell’s control. The memories were bad enough.

Dean had not lingered with Castiel and his brother for long after he’d refused the offer to heal his face. He retreated to his bedroom instead, dulling the pain with whiskey and using ice to prevent swelling.

Despite the events of the day, the emotional stress and the physical pain, Dean wasn’t tired. It was late and Sam would doubtless have gone to bed already, but Dean wouldn’t be able to sleep if he tried; there was no point. Castiel was probably rattling around the bunker somewhere, still awake and occupying himself with whatever he did while the Winchesters slept, but Dean didn’t want to face him right now.

He tried listening to music and bringing up a video on his laptop. When that didn’t work, he tried crawling under the covers and turning out the lights. Alcohol had dulled his senses but clearly not enough - he couldn’t be bothered getting up to find more whiskey, though.

It was dark and he was stressed, and it was too much to think that Castiel - his best friend who he had come so damned close to killing in cold blood - was still in the bunker somewhere. He should really go and talk to the angel, he knew that, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face Cas, who had asked after his well-being and offered to heal him and hadn’t yelled at him at all for what he’d done.

He needed a break from everything.

Dean set up his laptop and found his favourite web page, recognising one of his favourite ladies. He shoved a pillow behind his back and ran his hand down his chest and into his shorts. Usually he’d go slower, but all he wanted right now was a distraction. It wasn’t about feeling good, it was about forcing his brain to focus on anything that wasn’t him almost killing Cas.

He gripped himself tighter than he usually would, moving his wrist quickly and shutting his eyes. He could still hear the noise from the laptop but the visual was gone now, and he opened his eyes again. As soon as he couldn’t see his favourite busty beauty, all he could see in his head was Castiel.

He didn’t want to think about Cas right now. Besides the fact that he didn’t want to think about the angel’s bloody, hurt face, it was weird to think about your best friend while jerking off.

Yet he couldn’t stop.

He gripped himself tighter and moved faster, willing himself to focus on the breasts on his laptop screen instead. They were full and perky and normally he’d be entranced by them, but now he found that he kept shutting his eyes without meaning to. His mind kept drifting to Castiel, and that was incredibly frustrating.

Dean pulled his hand away, growling in irritation. All he wanted was a little self-distraction and he was so damned useless that he couldn’t even manage that.

After what he had done to Cas, maybe this was what he deserved. The angel was all he could think about and it was ruining even his private time.

Dean lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, as he softened and sorted himself out. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his jeans, closing the laptop along the way - it wasn’t doing anything for him anyway.

If he couldn’t even do this for himself without having the angel on his mind, it was obvious that he would have to go and talk to Cas, no matter how much he didn’t want to face him.

God, this was going to be painful. That was okay, though. It was what he deserved.

/

Dean found Castiel in the library. The angel had compiled a tower of books that was nearly as tall as he was, and was poring through a thick volume when Dean walked in.

“Hey, Cas.”

“Hello, Dean” Cas greeted him, a hint of a smile on his face. “I thought you’d gone to bed.”

“Couldn’t sleep” Dean shrugged, settling into a chair next to the angel and leaning over to look at what he was reading. “What’re you looking at?”

“I’m looking for anything the Men of Letters might have had on the Darkness.” Cas shoved the book away from him with a sigh. “Unsuccessfully so far, I’m afraid.”

Dean nodded, not sure what to say. He didn’t want to talk about the Darkness.

“How are you, Dean?”

Not this again. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” Cas levelled him with a sympathetic look. “You’re in pain.”

“I’m good, Cas.” He forced himself to look the angel in the eye. “What about you?”

Cas tilted his head at the question, like he always did when he was confused by something humans did. It was somehow endearing.

“I almost killed you, man” Dean said, thinking it was probably best to jump right into it. “I beat the crap out of you, and I walked off and left you there.” He paused to make sure his voice didn’t break. “Then you got hit by Rowena’s crazy spell, and I ... ”

“Dean, you don’t have to...”

“Yeah, I do. I almost killed you. Cas, that’s not okay.”

Cas sighed heavily. “No, it’s not. But that wasn’t really you, Dean. It was the Mark.”

“Not all the Mark” Dean whispered.

The hunter was about to launch into a speech or an explanation - he was going to say something, anything, to try and make it better - but he didn’t get the chance. Without Dean realising what he was doing, Castiel turned slightly to face him and reached his hand out to capture Dean’s hand, that was resting on the table.

Dean’s head snapped up, startled. He looked at Cas in shock before turning his gaze to the table, where the angel’s hand rested on top of his. He gulped, not daring to look up, and slowly, so slowly, turned his hand over to slot it against the angel’s. Their fingers rested together, not quite interlinked.

“Dean, I understand that you did what you did because of the Mark’s influence. You may not be sure of that, but I am.”

Dean took in a shaky breath and forced himself to look at Cas, who was staring at him with an expression of certainty and wariness - certainty in his words, wariness in his actions. He licked his lips and maintained eye contact while he carefully slotted his fingers through Castiel’s, joining their hands properly. Cas smiled at him, the wariness fading a little.

“I’m okay, Dean.” He eyed Dean carefully. “But you’re not.”

Dean yanked his hand away. “Don’t you dare!”

Cas glared at him. “Dean. You don’t need to suffer for what I did to you. Let me heal you.”

“No.” Dean stood up abruptly, putting some space between him and Castiel in case the angel tried to grab him. “This is fine, Cas. I beat you up, you beat me up.”

“So what? We’re even now?” Cas sounded pissed.

“Something like that” Dean shrugged.

Cas stood up and marched over, stopping only a metre or so away from Dean, who held his ground. “Well I don’t see it that way.”

“Cas...”

“No, you listen to me!” Cas growled. “You told me earlier that you don’t blame me for what I’ve done to you, correct?”

“Well, yeah” Dean said hesitantly, sensing a trap. “You were under a spell, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes. And in that case, we were both under another’s influence when we attacked each other. If that makes us even, as you seem to think, then it we aren’t truly ‘even’ until we’re both healed. I healed myself as soon as you left.”

Dean looked down, not sure what to say any more.

He didn’t want to stand here and argue logic and the definition of ‘even’ with the angel. It wasn’t really about that. He just didn’t want to be healed because he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve any favours from his best friend.

“Let me heal you, Dean.” Cas put one hand on Dean’s shoulder, getting his attention.

Dean shook his head desperately but didn’t pull away from the angel. “No…”

The hand on his shoulder moved up slowly, resting on his cheek. The touch was gentle, so hesitant that it was barely there, but Dean could feel it anyway, a warm point of contact that made his heart start pounding.

“Dean” Cas whispered. “Please.”

Swallowing hard, Dean met his eyes and nodded once.

The quick spark of angelic grace rushed into his wounds, restoring his skin to its unharmed state, and he reflexively clenched his eyes shut against the bright light so close to them. His hand came up without him meaning it to and he curled his fingers around Castiel’s wrist.

When the light died and the pain was gone, the angel’s hand lingered on his face and he kept his own hand curled around that wrist. Only after a moment did Dean open his eyes.

Cas was standing very close to him now, having stepped forward to touch him. Dean remembered a time when he would have automatically rolled his eyes and reminded the angel about the whole ‘personal space’ issue. Now, though, he was used to it; he and Cas always had stood a little too close to each other.

Right now, after everything, he would actually like to be closer, and that was terrifying. He didn’t deserve that, no matter how much he might want it.

Castiel drew his hand away slowly, but before Dean could drop his own hand, the angel had shifted his down to join their hands together again. Dean’s breath caught in his throat, and he looked down at their linked fingers. It took him a few moments to realise Cas was doing the same.

The two looked up at one another at the same time, but it was Castiel who moved forward first. Even he would never be able to say from where he found the courage to wrap his arms around the hunter, but the important thing was that he did.

Cas wrapped both arms around Dean and held on tightly, giving the hunter just enough leeway that Dean knew he could pull away at any time. But to his own shock, Dean couldn’t bring himself to do it; instead he slowly brought his own arms up and encircled the angel.

It was the most intimate embrace of Dean’s life.

He had hugged Cas before, briefly every time, but this was completely different. Their chests were pressed together and the angel’s face was turned into the crook of his neck. Dean clutched at the back of the familiar trenchcoat, and Cas placed his hand on the small of Dean’s back, in the hollow that made even a grown man seem vulnerable.

One of them pulled back ever so slightly - it wasn’t clear who - and their eyes met, so close now. Dean took a deep breath and gently rested their foreheads together.

“Cas. I can’t … I don’t deserve you” he whispered.

“You’re right about that Dean” Cas murmured back, raising one hand to cup the back of the hunter’s neck. “You deserve far better. But if you’ll have me...”

Dean pressed forward in response, his willpower dying. He didn’t deserve this and Cas deserved so much better than him and this was a terrible idea and dear god almighty he was kissing his best friend…

And it was wonderful.

Cas’ lips were sure and firm against his own, a little dry but nonetheless perfect. He wasn’t as experienced as Dean but he knew enough, and he seemed to be a fast learner. He was a lot less hesitant than Dean, though, and seemed more sure of himself right now. Dean let him take the lead.

He parted his lips willingly when Cas nudged them open, grasping onto the trenchcoat for support. His knees were weak and he might have been shaking a bit with sheer nervousness, and he clutched at the angel, trusting Castiel to hold him up. His arms were strong and comforting, and Dean realised, somewhere in the back of his mind, that despite his nervousness, he felt safe with the angel in a way he rarely had with anyone.

Dear Christ, how had he never realised just how badly he wanted to do this? Now that he finally had the angel in his arms, finally knew what it was like to kiss him, he couldn’t imagine not being able to do this again.

When Cas slid his tongue across Dean’s bottom lip, the hunter gasped and felt his hips move forward of their own accord to press his growing hardness against the angel’s thigh. He gasped and pulled back abruptly.

“God, I’m sorry, Cas” he groaned, feeling his face heat up with embarrassment. “I swear I didn’t mean that!”

Cas, who looked rather confused now, tilted his head in that cute little way he did. “It’s alright, Dean. It’s a natural response.”

“Still, man, could’ve controlled myself better there. Didn’t mean to, y’know...”

“Let me know that you are aroused?”

Dean flushed scarlet, burying his face in his hands to hide it, and chose not to say anything.

Castiel moved forward again, gathering a flustered Dean in his arms and gently manoeuvring Dean’s hands away. With nowhere better to put them, the hunter placed them on Cas’ waist, like he always did with a woman. He wondered if there should be a different protocol with a guy - he’d never been with one to know - but Cas seemed content with it, so he didn’t bother moving.

Cas placed one arm around Dean’s shoulders and very gently kissed him again, this one short and innocent. With his other hand, however, the angel returned to the hunter’s lower back, and this time he pulled Dean towards him until their hips met.

Dean gasped as he felt his crotch meet Cas’ thigh again; it was much more intoxicating this time, partly because the angel had moved him into it. Also because, this time, Dean could feel against his own thigh that he wasn’t the only one aroused.

He kissed Cas again, not wanting to think or talk, just wanting to feel. Cas opened to him immediately, curling his tongue around Dean’s and making small, pleased sounds into the kiss. At the sound of the angel’s pleasure - something he had never heard before but had shamefully imagined several times in the past - his hips bucked forward again, and this time he didn’t pull away.

This time, Dean just stopped the heated kiss, breathing heavily along with the angel and not moving any further away.

“Cas, what’re we...”

“We’re doing what is long overdue” the angel whispered.

Dean ducked his head down at that, running his tongue along the angel’s neck and sucking at the pressure point that had always been sensitive on his own body. Cas gasped a little, his grip on Dean tightening. The hunter felt him growing harder against his thigh, and he deliberately pushed his leg forward a little to give the angel more pressure. Cas’ breath hitched and he pressed himself against Dean.

“Dean, please...”

“Are you sure about this?” Dean whispered, almost afraid of the answer. “I meant what I said. I don’t deserve this. I’ll stop if you want.”

“And I meant it, too. I want this, Dean.”

Dean nodded and raised both hands to cradle Cas’ face, placing tender kisses to his lips. He gently rolled his hips forward, and Cas seemed to get the message and did the same. There was a moment of careful, slow rutting before Dean felt his denim-covered crotch press firmly against the hardness in the angel’s slacks. Both men gasped, clutching at the other.

Dean pressed down on the angel’s hips with his arm, forcing them against one another insistently. It brought a low moan from Cas, and Dean felt heat pool in his abdomen as he realised just how hard Cas was for him.

Dean still didn’t deserve this but right now he didn’t care. He almost pushed the angel to the floor to continue but he thankfully remembered that they were in the bunker, and Sam could walk in at any minute. His brother had a habit of getting up in the night and wandering around if he woke from a nightmare, and Dean didn’t want him to see this.

Okay, so it wouldn’t be the first time Sam had caught him in the middle of the act, but it had never been with a guy before. It had never been with someone they both knew, someone important to them. This was intimate and private and Dean didn’t want to share it with anybody but Cas.

He pulled back a little, taking the angel’s hand and tugging him along. “Come on.”

Cas followed him without question, either trusting Dean completely or just knowing full well where they were headed.

Dean shut his bedroom door behind him and barely managed to turn around before Cas was dragging him back into a kiss. Alone in the bedroom, Dean allowed himself to groan when Cas slid his tongue into his mouth, and then started down Dean’s neck the way the hunter had done to him earlier. Dean had the wit, somehow, to slide the trenchcoat and suit jacket off the angel’s shoulders.

Cas walked them to the bed, barely breaking the kiss, and sat down on the edge of it. Dean wondered if he was meaning to lie there in an awkward position, but quickly realised that lying down wasn’t on the menu for tonight.

Cas simply pulled Dean down on top of him, facing him, his legs curled up on the bed on either side of the angel; their groins were level with one another, and Dean got the hint and rocked against him. He groaned at the uncomfortable confinement his jeans were causing.

“Gotta get these off” he growled, intending to stand and remove them.

But Cas got there first, simply waving his hand and leaving both of them naked from the waist down.

Dean gulped; he had only been going to remove his jeans. But now that he was here, his bare skin resting half on the bed and half on Cas’ skin, he was glad the angel had used his initiative.

“Is this okay, Dean?”

Dean answered by kissing him deeply and rolling his hips forward.

A moan was ripped out of his throat, louder and higher pitched than he was proud of, at the feeling of his bare skin rubbing against the angel’s. Judging by the gasps that Cas seemed unable to hold in, he was feeling just as good.

After a few moments, Dean reached blindly out, thankfully finding the lubricant he had used on himself earlier within his reach.

Dean was torn between wanting to slide a hand between them to grasp their cocks together and wanting to keep both his arms wrapped tightly around the angel. After so much emotional turmoil - okay, and a lot of sexual repression about how much he wanted the angel - Dean found that despite how much he wanted the physical release, it was more important to hold Cas right now.

He wanted to keep the angel in his arms. He wanted to feel Cas’ forehead against his shoulder, feel the angel’s tongue on his neck. Cas’ face was pressed so close to his neck that Dean could feel when something felt particularly good for Cas, when his mouth would drop open and his eyes would clench shut.

Dean wanted to keep the angel in his arms forever - he didn’t deserve him but he could still have him, and he was selfish but he wanted this. But he couldn’t ignore the fact that, despite how good this gentle rutting felt, it probably wouldn’t be enough on its own to get him off.

He drizzled some lube onto his hand and reached between them, taking them both in hand and stroking fast. Cas moaned loudly, wrapping both arms around Dean and whimpering his name.

It did not take long for the two to reach their peak. Cas found it first, body going rigid and Dean’s name being ripped out of his throat, clenching his arms around Dean’s shoulders. Dean followed soon after, more turned on than he would have thought possible by the way it felt when the evidence of the angel’s release dripped over his fingers. He worked them through the aftershocks before he pulled his sticky hand away and wiped it carelessly on the blanket - he’d need to remember to wash it tomorrow.

Now that he’d come and his head was cleared a bit, he was embarrassed. He’d just perched on his best friend’s lap and got off with him. This was so not what he had intended when he’d gone to find Cas tonight…

Or maybe, he thought to himself, it was.

He couldn’t even jerk off without thinking of the angel, anyway. Maybe it was just about damn time for him to get his head out of his ass. Cas himself had said that they were overdue for exactly this.

He climbed off the angel carefully, smiling gratefully when Cas used his angel mojo to clean them up. Feeling exposed, Dean moved to slide under the bedcovers, and held his breath when he held his hand out to the angel to invite him in.

Thankfully Cas just smiled, took his hand, and crawled in with him.

A few moments of silence passed between them as the two lay there, not touching anywhere but their hands.

Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. “Y’know, we’re gonna have to talk about this.”

“I know, Dean.” Cas didn’t even sound worried. “It’s okay. We can talk in the morning. You need to rest now.”

Dean rolled his eyes fondly. “That’s one way to get out of a girly conversation.”

Cas smiled just as fondly back at him. “Would you rather we discuss everything now?”

“God, no” Dean grinned, laughing a little. He felt the smile fade as he looked seriously at Cas. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow” Cas agreed.

Dean closed his eyes and felt his face heat up. “You staying?”

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Aw, c’mon, man” Dean groaned.

“I’d like to.”

The hunter glanced up, feeling a genuine smile cross his face. “Yeah?”

“Yes, Dean. Sleep now.” Cas grinned at him. “I’ll watch over you.”

The two shared a knowing smile before Dean, feeling bold, rolled over to kiss his angel goodnight.

And afterwards he didn’t move back; he simply curled up next to Cas and wrapped an arm around his torso, smiling when he felt the angel adjust so he could hold Dean.

Dean would wake up in the same position in the morning, and although he still wouldn’t believe that he deserved this beautiful angel, he would smile and it would be enough.

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first attempt at writing anything vaguely smutty, so hope it wasn't too terrible. It's my headcanon for this fic that Dean and Cas go further the next night, after they have that talk, so I'll maybe write something for that in the future ^.^


End file.
